I have a tiger cat who lounges on the floor of my office or purrs in my lap when I write.  She has the most gorgeous markings:  black stripes on tawny fur, sand colored chin, pale emerald eyes.  As a kitten, she was taken from the wild, prematurely separated from her feral mother.  Her occasional skittishness tells me that she carries her early loss with her like a permanent scar. (more…)

I’m standing right beside him as he lifts a small glass, raises his hand high and pronounces, “God bless us, everyone!”  The audience, predictably, lets out a collective, sympathetic sigh.  This holiday season, I have the pleasure of playing Tiny Tim’s mother for nine performances in ten days.  I watch him offer the famous toast; I choke back tears as I experience his death; and I watch from the wings as Scrooge makes his famous transformation. (more…)

This Friday I will address a group of high school seniors about stress management.  It’s an interesting challenge for me and one I’ve been thinking about all week. As I look back to my own senior year in high school, it stands out as one of the most stressful periods of my life. (more…)

Several years ago, I had a psychic reading and the shaman told me, “You need to be better at loving yourself.”  At the time I thought, “What?  You’ve got to be kidding.  I totally love myself.”  In retrospect, I was great at pampering myself.  I have always tried to be generous about taking time for me: an occasional massage, going on retreats, developing hobbies, taking quiet time for a treat at Starbucks.  I thought that such luxurious behaviors meant that I was crazy about me. (more…)

Harold* is waiting to die.  There were six of us at his bedside in the county nursing home, leaning toward him singing softly: “Amazing grace . . . how sweet the sound . . . “  Tears in his eyes, he shook each of our hands saying, “Thank you, you don’t know how much that meant to me.”  Little did he know how much it had meant to us . . . ..how much he meant to me. (more…)